


but i will hold on hope (and i won't let you choke)

by argenttmccall



Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Genre: Case of the Week, Crossover, Dean and Sam are Spencer's Cousins, Family Feels, Flashbacks, Gen, Kid Fic, Monster of the Week, Season/Series 01, Takes Place Before s1e5 of Both Shows, Throwback to Season One (for both shows)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-09 22:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11678040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argenttmccall/pseuds/argenttmccall
Summary: In 2005, Spencer Reid contacts his cousins, Dean and Sam Winchester, for help in taking care of a bit of a supernatural situation.In 1987, John Winchester contacts his step sister, Diana Reid, for help in taking care of his sons for a few days while he works a job.Because that's what family is for.





	1. Chapter 1

_BAU Jet, 2005_

Spencer is sitting next to Gideon on the plane, the BAU team heading to Kentucky to investigate a series of brutal murders going on over a period of four months now. He’s scanning the Medical Examiner’s files over the murders, vaguely listening to the others try to establish victimology, when he gets to the part about the missing hearts.

“All four victim’s hearts are missing,” he says suddenly, a faint alarm starting to go off in his head.

“More like they were torn out,” Morgan says with a shake of his head. “The victims are all female, maybe we’re looking for a guy who’s had his heart broken by all of them.”

“Well then, this guy has a lot of anger to work through. It looks like he set his dog on them as well,” Elle says, flipping through crime scene photos. “It’s why we weren’t called in earlier, local PD just ruled the first three as animal attacks.”

“What changed?” Spencer asks, trying to ignore the sudden trembling in his hands because if this is what he thinks it is, then _fuck_.

“They found traces of human DNA on all the victims,” Gideon answers somberly. Spencer doesn’t say anything to that; he goes back to reading the file in his hands, his mind racing with the implications.

Still, Spencer’s not quite 100% sure about what he thinks this might be (and he hopes like hell that he’s wrong). It could very well be just a regular UnSub with an attack dog and some serious anger issues.

But his instincts are telling him that this is something _far_ worse.

\---

When the plane lands, Spencer asks Gideon if he can accompany Elle to the M.E.’s office in order to see the bodies up close for himself. On the way there, he quickly and quietly calculates the timing of the murders in relation to the lunar cycle. To his dismay, they line up perfectly.

“Hey, what’s with you?” Elle asks him suddenly, jerking Spencer out of his thoughts.

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ , you’re very quiet today. I haven’t heard a single statistic come out of your mouth since we got on the plane,” she says with a wry grin. “Everything okay?”

“Oh! Y-yeah, everything is great,” Spencer says with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, it’s just that...sometimes these cases get to me,” he says finally, which to be fair, isn’t a lie at all.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Elle says with a sigh. “Hopefully we can help wrap this case up quickly then.”

Spencer tries to hold on to that one kernel of hope that this is just a regular BAU case, and is successful...right up until he gets a chance to examine the bodies.

There are claw marks and bite marks all over the victims, and the M.E. shows them where they found the DNA.

“There were traces of saliva all along the bite marks,” she says with a frown. “But a lot of it was contaminated by animal DNA as well.”

“So we _are_ looking for an UnSub with an attack dog,” Elle concludes, but stops when the M.E. shakes her head.

“Well, no. That’s the weird part, not that all of this isn’t weird in the first place. We ran the animal DNA to try and figure out what exactly got to these people after the perp was done with them, and the closest it could come up with was...wolves. Which aren’t exactly native to this area,” the M.E. says with a nervous laugh.

“What about the human DNA? Any hits in the system?” Spencer asks, fighting against a sudden nausea attack as his last bit of hope goes crumbling away.

“No, nothing. Sorry,” she says with a shrug.

 

* * *

 

_Dallas, Texas, 2005_

Dean answers his cell without looking at the screen, too busy filling up his arms with whatever junk food he can get his hands on. He and Sam are just outside of Dallas, having just finished a case involving ghosts. They’d spent the night digging up the corpses of a husband and wife involved in a murder-suicide whose spirits wouldn’t leave their house, making life difficult for the newlyweds who had just moved in. But at least the case was done, and Sam is in the car, looking for their next case.

“Y’ello?” he answers the call, sticking the phone in between his shoulder and his ear to dump his goods at the register and dig out his wallet.

“...Dean?”

Dean jerks in surprise as he recognizes the voice on the other line.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, hey. Been a while,” he says with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, it has. How you been? The Feds treating you right?” Dean asks, paying for the food quickly to get back out to the Impala.

“Yeah, yeah. Couldn’t ask for a better team,” Spencer says warmly. Dean gets to the car and shoves his stuff at Sam, who gives him a dirty look. Dean waves him off as he turns the car on.

“Oh, that’s good. So what’s up?”

“Well…” Spencer says hesitantly, and Dean frowns. “Is your dad around? I tried calling him, but his voicemail just said to call you.”

“Oh, uh, no. It’s a long story. Is something wrong?”

Spencer sighs, and it sounds shaky, even to Dean. “Yeah, I think so. My team just caught a case...and I think we might be dealing with a werewolf.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Dean breathes out, as Sam looks at him questioningly.

“Yeah. And we’re nowhere near prepared for this. I...I need your help,” Spencer says quietly.

“We’re on our way. Where are you?”

“Pineville, Kentucky.”

“Christ, okay,” Dean blows out a breath. “I think that’s about...a 13 hour drive, but I might be able to make it in 11.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon. Oh, and Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Spencer says sincerely, and Dean smiles.

“Hey, that’s what family is for.”

Dean hangs up, and looks over at Sam.

“Was that dad?” Sam says, and Dean can hear the hope in his voice.

“No, sorry. Actually, it was Spencer.”

“What, really?” Sam says in surprise. “How’s he doing?”

“Good, except he thinks he might be dealing with a werewolf,” Dean says, and he can’t help but get a little excited. It’s been _forever_ since they’ve dealt with one, not since they were kids at least.

“Shut up, really?” Sam says with wide eyes, already pulling out the map from the glove compartment to route their trip.

“Yep. Looks like we’re headed for Kentucky.”

 

* * *

 

  _Las Vegas, Nevada, 1987_

“Dad, where are we?” Dean asks sleepily from the passenger seat of the Impala. John looks over at him in surprise; he’d assumed that both of his sons were asleep.

John sighs. “Las Vegas. We’re gonna go visit my sister for a little bit, your Aunt Diana. You boys will stay with her while I work on a job here.”

A couple of years ago, Dean would have been asking questions non stop. What kind of job was he working, or what was Diana like? But now, he knows better. Dean just burrows deeper into his father’s coat that he’s using as a blanket, throwing a quick glance into the backseat to make sure Sammy is still asleep.

It’s getting to be late, almost 10 pm. John makes a left turn and drives into a residential neighborhood, all suburban houses with family cars. Sometimes, the sight of normalcy will hurt, just a little bit. But then he looks over at his boys, and he pushes the hurt away. They, and everyone else around them, need to be protected. John will gladly endure the pain, as long as they’re okay.

He finally spots the correct house, and pulls into the driveway. Dean sits up, rubbing his eyes and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I’ll take Sam, you just grab your bags,” John says, waiting for Dean’s nod before getting out of the Impala and going over to his youngest son. He sometimes envies the way that Sammy can sleep so deeply and easily. But then again, he’s only 5 years old. He doesn’t know anything about what John does or what evil exists in the world. He just trusts that if his father and his brother are there, then all is well.

John takes Sammy out of his car seat gently, hoping he doesn't wake up. The front door to the house opens, spilling light onto the front yard, and Diana steps out onto the porch. John can see a small child peering out from behind her, and he figures that’s her little boy, his nephew.

“Come on, Dean,” John says gruffly. Together, they trek up the lawn and onto the porch, Sammy still sound asleep in his arms.

“Hi John,” Diana says quietly, with a soft smile down at Dean as well.

This is the first time John’s seen her since she and William got married, maybe three years before Mary’s death. Diana had looked happy then, and vibrant. Now...she looks tired, more worn around the edges. They hadn’t exactly been close, growing up, as they’d really only been stepsiblings after John’s mother had remarried a few years after his father had left them. But still, apart from his sons, she was the only family he had left.

“Hello Diana. It’s good to see you,” John says. “You remember Dean. and this is Sam.”

“It’s nice to see you, Dean. The last time I saw you, you were just a baby, and now you’re a young man,” Diana says. Dean doesn’t respond, but takes the hand she offers him and shakes it, just as John has taught him.

“Spencer, come around so they can see you properly,” Diana chides her son, who still hasn’t come around from behind her. Hesitantly, he does step around nervously, pushing his large glasses back up his nose. This is the first time John’s seeing his nephew in person, having received a few pictures of him in the mail when he was born.

“This is your Uncle John, and your cousin Dean, and that’s your other cousin called Sam. Go ahead, introduce yourself,” says Diana.

“Hi, m-my name’s Spencer,” the kid says shyly, and John can’t help but notice the vast differences in the two boys. Dean may be quiet, but he holds himself confidently, with his head high and shoulders back. Spencer is more crouched in on himself, more careful with his movements.

“My name’s Dean, S’nice to meet ya,” Dean says, flashing his first quick smile since they’ve arrived. John just barely holds his snort in; his son, the charmer. John’s noticed that Dean is much better at picking up on other people’s moods than he is, and he is definitely better at putting people at ease. Already, he can see Spencer relaxing minimally, the wariness in his eyes being replaced by curiosity.

“Well, come in, we're not going to stay out here all night,” says Diana, ushering them all inside.

“Where's William?” John asks once she's shown them where they'll be sleeping. Dean and Sammy are staying in Spencer’s room, and John is staying in the guest room. He'd put Sammy to bed and left Dean with Spencer in the boys’ room, and now the two of them were in Diana’s living room.

John notices how Diana goes carefully still before responding. “He's on a business trip. I let him know the boys would be staying here for a few days.”

She's hiding something, John can tell. But then again, so is he. She thinks that he does freelance construction work here and there.

“Thank you for agreeing to this, by the way,” he says. “And just let me know if they get too out of hand, or anything.”

Diana huffs a small laugh. “Relax, John. I think the boys will keep each other occupied. And it'll be nice for Spencer to socialize with boys his age. He tends to have...trouble, making friends of his own.”

Again, John can see that she's hiding something. He debates pressing her about it, but ultimately decides against it. She has a right to her secrets, and he definitely doesn't need her to be pressing him about his own.

“Well, I appreciate it all the same. Think I'm going to turn in now, it's late and I'll be heading out early tomorrow. Thanks for letting me use your spare room, by the way.”

“No trouble at all. That's what family is for, isn't it?” Diana says with a sad smile. John doesn't respond other than to tip his head in acknowledgement.

After Mary’s death, he'd dropped off the radar. He knows Diana had tried to reach out to him but he hadn't bothered reaching back. What was the point? If the monster that had killed Mary could get to his family in his own home, then no one else was safe either. But as the years went by and the monster didn't appear again, John decided to reevaluate his decision to cut ties with his step sister. He figures at least the boys should get to know their family as well.

On his way back to his room, John pokes his head into the boys’ room. Dean and Sammy are sharing a bed opposite Spencer’s, the only other one available. Sammy’s still passed out cold, and the other two seem to be settling down as well.

“Dean.”

“Hmm?”

“I'm heading out tomorrow morning. You know what I expect of you.”

“Behave, and make sure Sammy stays out of trouble.”

“That's right. You mind your Aunt Diana, y’hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. ‘Night, boys,”

“Good night,” come echoes from both boys as they settle in for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

_Pineville, Kentucky, 2005_

Spencer lays on his bed in the hotel room, exhausted after a long day but still unable to sleep. He’s just waiting for Dean’s call saying that he’s arrived in town, finally, and trying not to let his nerves overpower him.

He’s been on a couple of hunts with Dean and his Uncle John, just to see what it was like. But they were low level hunts, a couple of quick salt and burns. Mainly, they just taught him all about the lore and how to defend himself against any type of creature. His Uncle John had even taught him how to shoot, at least well enough to get into the FBI Academy, Spencer remembers with a wry grin.

That was back when Sam was still with them, right before his acceptance to Stanford. The Winchesters had traveled all the way to Las Vegas when Spencer had told them that he had been recruited into the FBI. The boys had kept alternating between crowing with pride and making fun of him for going over to the ‘dark side’, as Dean kept saying. Uncle John had just put a heavy hand on his shoulder and smiled, saying “You did good, son.”

But then...well, things changed after Sam left.

The three of them were just _so_ angry and hurt at each other, they just shut everyone else out, including Spencer. He’s kept sporadic contact with both Sam and Dean, separately, of course. But eventually, it got to the point where they weren’t making any effort at making amends with _anyone_. With Spencer so caught up in getting integrated into the BAU and dealing with the horror in his cases day in and day out, he just had to let the boys go.

Spencer’s cell phone rings, startling him out of his thoughts. He checks the caller ID to make sure it’s Dean before answering.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Einstein,” Dean says warmly, and Spencer smiles to hear his childhood nickname Dean had christened him with. “We’re rolling into town now.”

“We? So Uncle John _is_ with you?” Spencer sits up, pulling on his shoes and grabbing his keys to head outside.

“Oh, no actually, Sam is.”

Spencer can feel his eyebrow practically go up into his hair.

“Oh, okay, sounds great,” he finally says after a second of stunned silence, careful to keep his tone even. “I’ll send you the address of the hotel I’m staying at, just pick me up outside. I definitely don’t need my team mates to see us together.”

“Gotcha. See you soon.” They hang up, and Spencer sends Dean the text message quickly before heading outside.

The night air is cool, almost chilly, and Spencer tugs down on the sleeves of his sweater as he goes and leans against a wall outside. He knows Dean isn’t about to pull up right in front of the hotel where anyone can see them, but rather on the corner where it’s less brightly lit. The weight of his service revolver at his hip is comforting, considering there’s a werewolf on the loose and it’s still the week of the full moon.

Pretty soon, Spencer can hear the familiar rumble of the Impala approaching, and it serves to calm his nerves. It’s psychological, obviously, but he can’t help but associate the car with the same sense of safety and security that the boys feel as well. The Impala pulls up in front of him, and the boys get out of the car, and Spencer gets his first look at Sam and Dean in years.

“I see the sweaters are still a recurring theme,” is the first thing Dean says with a wink as he goes to pull Spencer into a hug. Spencer tries to ignore the sudden lump in his throat as he hugs Dean back tightly. They may be cousins, but Spencer has always seen Dean as more of an older brother.

“You’ll never take my sweaters away from me,” Spencer says with a slightly unsteady laugh as he turns towards Sam. He’s as tall as ever, with the same gentle eyes and floppy hair. But there’s a shadow in his eyes now, something that wasn’t there the last time he saw Sam. Spencer doesn’t comment on it, merely accepting Sam’s hug as well.

“It’s good to see you, Spence,” Sam says.

“You too, Sam,” he says before letting him go. “There’s a public park nearby, if you want to head there. Hopefully our friendly neighborhood werewolf won’t maul us to death while we’re there.”

* * *

The car ride is pretty informative, with Spencer filling them in with all the evidence supporting his werewolf theory on the way to the park, and Sam filling in Spencer on everything that happened with Jess and their dad. Dean can’t help but glance into the rearview mirror every once in awhile just to watch Spencer talk. It's kind of amazing to see him now, a drastic change from the last time he saw him. Spencer speaks confidently, if a little too fast sometimes. He looks like he's more comfortable in his own skin, and more confident in his abilities as an FBI agent.

Dean hadn’t realized it until he saw him, but he’s missed Spencer fiercely.

But more than that, he’s missed _this_. Having people he loves in the car with him, knowing that they’re watching out for him and vice versa. Before he had mustered up the courage to go find Sam at Stanford, it had been lonely, just him and the Impala. Even before he went missing, he and his father only saw each other every once in a while on a hunt. And obviously, Dean loves his father and he knows his father loves him. But it just feels different being around him than being around Spencer and Sam; it’s more comfortable with them. He doesn’t have to watch himself so rigidly, afraid that he might make a mistake.

Before he knows it, Dean is pulling into the parking lot and shutting the engine off. They get out of the car, and he goes to open the trunk to look for silver bullets and knives.

“Oh hey, mind sparing me a few silver bullets?” Spencer says with a wry grin as he stands next to Dean, looking down into the trunk. Dean smirks and hands him a couple of mags, and an extra silver knife too, just because.

They start walking and find a park bench to sit on, and for a moment, no one says anything. They’re too busy looking up at the sky; in this part of the country there’s a lot less light pollution than, say, D.C. The stars are shining brightly, as well as the full moon, which serves as a reminder as to why they’re reunited in the first place.

“So, what now?” Sam finally breaks the silence with a sigh.

“We work the case,” Dean answers promptly.

“Yeah, but how? There are actual Feds in this town, so we can't go around impersonating law enforcement because it'll take them, like, two seconds to blow our cover.”

“What about journalists?” Spencer says suddenly, and they turn to look at him in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it would give you a legitimate reason to hang around the crime scenes and to ask around about the attacks. If anyone asks, just say you guys are students from the local university and you're writing an article about the attacks.”

Hmm, not a bad idea, Dean thinks. Except…

“You know you're gonna have to pretend like you don't know us, and I know how bad of a liar you are,” Dean says with a grin, right before Sam punches his arm as Spencer rolls his eyes at him.

“I've gotten better at it, you know. Deception is something that I've had to use when interviewing suspects. I'll be fine, but you guys just have to make sure you don't land on our suspect list. Because the second your names get passed along to our Technical Analyst, she's going to know every single thing about you, _including_ your relationship to me.”

“So we'll be careful,” says Dean. “No problem.”

* * *

_Las Vegas, Nevada, 1987_

“Dean,”

Dean mumbles into his pillow, turning over on his side.

“Deeeeeaaaan.”

“What.”

“Where are we?” Sammy whispers at him, and Dean sighs before cracking an eye open. It's morning now, he can see the sun peeking into the room.

“We're at Aunt Diana’s house,” Dean mumbles before drifting off again.

“Deeeeeaaaaan.”

“What. Is. It.”

“Who is Aunt Diana?”

“She's dad’s sister.”

“Where's daddy?”

“He's working.”

“Oh.”

Blessedly, Sammy falls silent again, and Dean hopes that he's asleep again. He can feel himself start to doze off again when he feels Sammy shaking his arm, and finally gives up sleep as a lost cause. Dean sighs again and sits up, fixing his brother with a glare. Sammy’s hair is rumpled and all over the place, and he's still got marks on his face from pillow imprints.

“What, Sammy?”

“Who's that?” he asks, pointing to the other bed. Dean glances over to see Spencer just waking up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“That's our cousin. His name’s Spencer,”

“Oh,” is all Sammy says, eyes wide.

Dean still doesn't know what to think about his new cousin. The kid seems quiet and kinda weird, but they had barely spoken to each other last night. They watch as Spencer manages to fumble on his glasses, and then just stare at them from across his side of the room.

Dean is content to just stare back, because what is he gonna say to a kid he doesn't know? Sammy, on the other hand, just decides to vault himself out of the bed and goes over to Spencer's.

“Hi. My name’s Sammy.”

“Hi,” he says back awkwardly. “My name is Spencer.”

“How old are you? I'm 5!” Sammy says with a toothy grin, showing him exactly how old he is with his fingers. Dean can't help but roll his eyes fondly. Even Spencer smiles at him, a little more relaxed now.

With a quick glance to Dean, he responds: “I'm 7 years old. But I will be 8 in two months.”

“Oh. That's my big brother, Dean. He's 9,” says Sammy, pointing over to Dean.

“We've met,” Spencer says kindly to Sammy. Sammy just looks back in confusion at Dean.

“Last night, doofus.”

“M’not a doofus,” Sammy says with a pout. Dean just snorts, hopping out of bed to join his brother. Spencer’s eyes are wide and wary behind his glasses, and Dean guesses that the kid isn't used to newcomers in his house.

“Thanks for letting us stay in your room,” Dean says finally, throwing him an olive branch. After all, this is the first time that they're meeting family since mom died.

“Oh. Y-you’re welcome,” Spencer stammers. “Um, do you want me to show you to the bathroom so you guys can wash up?”

“Yeah, thanks. Sammy, go grab the toothbrushes from the bag,” Dean says, and Sammy scampers off. Dean wanders around Spencer’s bedroom, curious to see who he’s sharing a room with. There’s a lot of books, like, _a loooot_ of books. Big books and small books, most of which Dean doesn’t recognize.

“I guess you like to read, huh?” Dean says over his shoulder. Spencer finally climbs out of his bed to go stand next to Dean.

“Yeah. I, uh, I actually have a memory that lets me memorize anything I read,” Spencer says shyly, and Dean looks over at him with surprise.

“Like, _anything_?”

“Yep.”

“Wow. So I guess you’re some kinda genius, huh?”

“I..I guess,” Spencer says hesitantly, and Dean can tell that he’s uncomfortable again, so he drops the subject.

“I found them Dean!” Sammy shouts from the other side of the room, holding the toothbrushes aloft triumphantly. Dean cracks a smile at his baby brother as Spencer giggles.

"Good job, Sammy. Now come on, we gotta get cleaned up."


End file.
